


Taking Charge

by Vilakins



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Post Gauda Prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilakins/pseuds/Vilakins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vila decides that enough is enough and takes over.</p><p>There's now a sequel, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6631234">Beginning Again</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Charge

**Author's Note:**

> Trope: role reversal

"Wake up, you bastard!" Vila stood over Avon, hand hands on his hips. "That's right. And before you start, no snarky comments from you either, not after all the trouble you've landed us in."

 

**Half an hour earlier**

At last they were beginning to stir. Dayna and Soolin anyway. Vila leaned over them and gave them a gentle shake. "Soolin? Dayna? Come on, wake up."

"Mmm." Soolin opened her eyes sleepily, then was suddenly, scarily awake, sitting bolt upright and grabbing Vila's arm so hard it hurt. "Where are we? What's going on?" She looked around at the others, still sprawled in the positions they had handed in when they'd been thrown into the room.

"Some sort of lock up, I think. Maybe Blake put people here to cool off, I dunno."

"Why... why aren't we dead?" Dayna muttered.

"They had their guns set to stun. I'd say they plan a big public trial. Probably with a starring role for Commissioner bloody Sleer."

"O-oh." Soolin rubbed her head. "And how is it _you're_ so bright-eyed and full of beans?"

"Eh? Beans?"

"Old farm expression."

Vila looked sly. "I used to play football. Level Five Lasers if you want to know, though I don't suppose you do. In general we frowned on diving but you know when things are going badly, sometimes that's all you can do."

"Vila." Dayna snapped. "Don't waffle. Just cut to the chase."

"When they started firing I hit the floor. A good dive takes a lot of skill, you know, you have to make it _look_ like you were fouled. Or shot for that matter." Not that it was that easy; lying there with his hands raised from the floor in case he had the chance to slap them down, leap to his feet, and make a run for it, he had been unable to move in case anyone saw.

Soolin sighed. "And this helps how?"

"Saw where they took us. And I've got my emergency tools. Always carry those."

"Surely they searched us."

"Course, and took our bracelets. But they never look in clothes and seams and places like that." Vila held up several picks. "One of these should get us out." He looked over at Tarrant. "Looks like Tarrant's coming round. Not in a very good way, is he? Must've been a rough landing."

Tarrant shifted himself into a slightly more comfortable position and raised himself carefully and painfully on one elbow. "Huh. I'm still alive. Maybe."

"Avon doesn't look much better." Dayna moved over to look more closely. "He's breathing but he's still completely out cold."

Vila shrugged. "Took a lot of stuns. Right, ready to get out of here?"

"Not till Avon's awake!" Dayna said hotly. "You can't leave him here."

Vila looked down at Avon, his face unreadable. "Why not?"

"Because he's one of us, Vila," Tarrant said tiredly, and Dayna folded her arms and looked truculent.

 

"Wake up, you bastard!" Vila stood over Avon, hand hands on his hips. "That's right. And before you start, no snarky comments from you either, not after all the trouble you've landed us in." All the bitterness and anger Vila had suppressed for so long boiled over. "Last year it was nothing but wandering about letting stuff happen to us—and nothing for me to do because I was the spare part, thanks _so_ much for that—and this year? Nothing but failure and stuff-ups and everything going wrong. Well, I've had it up to _here_ with it all." He indicated just under his chin. "Enough is enough. I'm leaving, and if you're coming too, you'd better make it snappy."

Dayna's mouth was open, Tarrant looked as if he'd come across an unexpected snake, and Soolin smirked. Avon stared up at Vila, then got dully to his feet.

Vila went and gave the lock a last tweak. "Right, let's go."

"Wait!" Soolin put out a hand to stop him. "I don't suppose you managed to lift a gun or any sort of weapon while they were bringing us in here?"

"Could've, but the guy would've realised almost straight away and come in here to get it. And probably use it."

"So what do you suggest, inglorious leader?" Tarrant said.

Vila hesitated. "Well, I've got the picks. And this." He pulled a long, very thin wire out of a trouser seam.

"Garrotte!" said Dayna.

"Stilettos!" said Soolin.

Vila looked a little ill. "Just make it quick, you know me and violence. And I want everything back again. Tools of the trade, you know."

 

**A day later**

"I'm surprised we made it through the blockade," said Tarrant, finally relaxing in the pilot's chair.

Vila powered down what passed for weapons. "I suppose it's to keep people out, not in. People leaving probably makes it easier for them."

"I commend your hijacking abilities, but you might have got something faster than this ancient crate."

"Easy to nick, and it's not very noticeable. Like me."

"So, where to now?"

"Don't much care. As far away from here as possible. The whole thing was a disaster from start to finish." Vila hunched down in his chair. "I was looking forward to seeing Blake again, too."

Avon spoke for the first time. "He set it was a set up."

Vila rounded on him. "No, he didn't! He said he set it all up. He said he was waiting for us, you utter berk!"

"Yes. And Tarrant said—"

"Tarrant didn't know Blake. You don't think there was another explanation? Like maybe he set up a rebel cell and was hoping we'd turn up? It was _Blake_!" Vila shouted. "Our Blake!"

"Then why was he so hard to find?"

"With the Federation after him? Oh, come _on_!"

"I didn't notice you making any comments at the time."

"Yeah, well, I was leaving it all to you. Like I have for far too bloody long. No more being told what to do, told to shut up, told I'm stupid, told I'm useless, told I'm a spare part—" Vila stopped and took a deep breath. "All of that stops right now." He held a finger up. "So no more not-so-smart ideas from you, or snark, or arguments. _Nothing_."

Avon blinked but said nothing.

Vila turned back to Tarrant. "If you need a setting, aim for Califeron or Lindor."

"Lindor," said Soolin, to fill the uncomfortable silence. "I've heard it's a vast improvement on Gauda Prime."

"Wouldn't be hard." Vila leaned back and closed his eyes, suddenly hitting an adrenaline low. "Democracy, chocolate, long cool blondes and drinks, you name it."

And whatever the others decided to do once they were safe, Vila thought a nice comfortable bolthole would be just the thing for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ann7121 for suggesting Vila's diving skills when I made him an ex-footballer in _Impulse Purchase_.


End file.
